


White Rabbit with a Guillotine

by The_Exile



Category: NiGHTS into Dreams
Genre: Community: ladiesbingo, Gen, Introspection, Metaphysics, Psychology, Unlikely Friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-25 18:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12538272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Exile/pseuds/The_Exile
Summary: Puffy isn't really that bad. I mean, yes, she is bad, she's literally a soul-devouring nightmare, but she isn't like that of her own will and she makes more sense than people think and she tells Claris important things about what issues she has to sort out in her own head. Better the devil you know, I guess?





	White Rabbit with a Guillotine

**Author's Note:**

> prompt - 'introspection'

If she took anything away from her experiences in Nightopia, it was that her unconscious mind was a weird place. 

Her dreams didn't even have the decency not to make sense. Most of the places at least resembled places she'd been, or at least seen, albeit horrifyingly twisted to match whatever her emotions were at the time – and knowing that you were being chased by creatures that took on the form of your darkest nightmares in order to feast on your soul is kinda a self-fulfilling prophecy of recursive feedback that just keeps spiralling down and down until you just turn around and face it. Even the bad bits weren't that unfamiliar. She knew how she felt most of the time behind that friendly opera mask she wore on the stage of daily life. She knew what a mess she was. Wasn't everyone? 

Take Puffy for example. On the simplest level, the rotund, busty, opera singing rabbit/balloon hybrid thing that wanted to kill her, looked a bit like her singing tutor. Acted like her, too. I mean, the voluptuous diva had never overtly tried to kill anyone. Sometimes Claris was a little concerned by how hard she worked her students and how intense her rage grew when anyone made a mistake. Some of the things she said bordered on actual death threats, or at least strong opinions that her pupils were worthless and could be replaced easily without anyone caring they were gone. Her praise on the rare occasions she actually liked something you were doing tended to be just as passionate, though. In short, the tutor's moods were a force of nature both benevolent and destructive, kind of how she imagined it would be to live near a volcano - she knew you could power things with it and that you got really good quality soil but she still wouldn't want to be anywhere near it when it went off. 

There were other things comprising Puffy. Rabbits, for instance - she had a bit of a phobia of them. It was normal for them to have red eyes, their bites hurt like hell and she had once watched Watership Down by accident thinking it would a cute kid's movie about animals. One of the operas she had sung in once involved wearing rabbit masks and it put her off so much, it was one of her worst performances. That was another phobia of hers - poor performance. Stage fright. People realising that she got such bad stage fright. Screwing up at one important moment and callous people who didn't know her never giving her a second chance.

It wasn't really Puffy's fault she embodied all these things, though, Claris guessed. Wizeman had made them all that way. They were like trick mirrors in Soft Museum, showing you a distorted reflection of yourself in your worst light, tricking you into thinking you really were that ugly. It still made her look stupid if she blamed the mirror. It was still reflecting something real, even if it was a warped point of view. And now it was out in the open, she could deal with it better. That was what nightmares were for - stages she could play out things about herself that she didn't dare think about in the waking world where the consequences were so much worse. 

True, it wasn't quite as wholesome and therapeutic when the dreams were ruthless, shadowy predators who ate children's souls but Claris still appreciated the thought. That was why there was a sketch of Puffy hidden away in the middle page of her padlocked journal, where nobody else would see but she would never forget.


End file.
